


Delayed Gratification

by LadyFogg



Series: The Reader Professor Series [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Language, NSFW, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You call Ryan up so you can finally get a bit of relief. He’s happy to oblige, there’s just one condition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delayed Gratification

Thursday is another frustrating day, but for an entirely different reason.

While Ryan’s talented tongue certainly helped to alleviate some of your aching desire for him, it wasn’t enough to satisfy you completely. You had contemplated sending him a text when you got home, but you were too exhausted to entertain the idea of him coming over.

Now, you’re laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s not very late at all, but your quest to find some sort of relief had led you to retire early. Unfortunately, your own fingers didn’t do the trick as they would normally have. It’s his touch you crave. His firm, but coarse fingers stroking you hesitantly at first but then bolder the more noises you make. His thumb circling your clit wickedly as his mouth attacks yours in a thirsty kiss.

Fuck. You need him.

You roll over onto your stomach and snatch your phone off the end table.

_Hey. What are you doing right now?_

You roll onto your back once more, your arms resting at your sides as you return your gaze to the ceiling. It’s weird to think that only four days ago you two were laying tangled in your sheets as he drilled you into the mattress. God he really needs to come over.

_Thinking about how mean you were sending me away yesterday._

You figured he was still upset about that. Part of you does feel bad. However, what choice did you have? You very well couldn’t have sent Professor Burns away. And having Ryan wait around for you or come back would have been too suspicious. Again, you could have texted him when you got home, but sleep was a priority by that point.

_I’ll make it up to you. Come over._

His response isn’t immediate as you expect it to be. You smirk slightly, wondering if he’s toying with you. Or trying to think of a clever retort. Or he may be finding a way to reject your offer. You’re sure he’s in the mood. He has to be as wound up and sexually frustrated as you are. It’s not fair otherwise.

_I don’t know. There’s only a 1 to 4 chance of that happening._

At this you chuckle and write back, _I’m horny and I need you. Come. Over._

It’s only a minute later when he responds, but it feels like hours. _Take care of it like a normal person._

What an ass. Granted, you’ve been teasing him enough where his response is well deserved. You bite your lip as you consider how to respond. Eventually, you settle on, _I tried, but I want your fingers stroking me. I’m wet just thinking about it._

This time his response is immediate. _Damn it, you win. Be right over._

Giggling like a teenager, you sit up and hurriedly get out of bed. You take a minute to shower quickly and throw on a sheer nightie, before you run around your room, straightening things up.

It only takes him twenty minutes. When he knocks on the door, the sound sends a shiver through your body, taking you by surprise. You must be more wound up than you originally thought. You greet him at the door with a large, promising smile and a beckoning finger. He smirks back excitedly, slipping into your apartment before closing and locking the door behind himself.

He takes in what you’re wearing as he shrugs out of his brown jacket, his eyes dancing with hunger. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Mmm, you already took care of that yesterday,” you say. “I was thinking you could fuck me instead.”

His face immediately flushes and he drops his jacket onto one of the dining room chairs. “What makes you think you’ll get what you want tonight?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Oh sweetie,” you say, reaching out to run your hand along his jaw, pausing to grasp his chin and bring his face close to yours. “Haven’t you noticed by now that I always get what I want?”

His hands, those rough, calloused hands you were just pining for, grasp your upper arms tightly, forcing you to clutch his arms in surprise. He pulls you against his hard chest, bringing your face even closer to his so that your lips brush tantalizingly. “Oh that’s going to end tonight. You’ve been very, very _bad_ to me and I don’t really appreciate it all that much.”

“Is that so?” you ask with a smirk, delighted with the forcefulness and edge to his voice. “So you think you’re going to call the shots tonight?”

“I _know_ I am.”

You hate to admit that your legs feel a little weak. His voice. His attitude. His firm, unrelenting grip even when you try to wriggle free and gain some semblance of control. It’s all so _arousing_.

“Oh no, you’re not escaping me tonight,” he says with a shake of his head. “See, you have this nasty habit of getting me hard and turned on, and then sending me away. Now, I’m a considerate and patient man. I understand that ‘no means no’ and that if you’re not interested I should back off. But you have been interested every time and you’re just toying with me. I’m getting a little tired of it. I think it’s time I returned the favor, don’t you?”

“Careful, young man,” you say condescendingly, because you really can’t help yourself. “Giving up control is not something I do lightly. No matter how politely you ask.”

He leans down and his hot breath ghosts across your ear, sending a powerful shiver through your body. “I wasn’t really asking.”

You turn your face towards his and his lips finally descend on yours in a bruising and urgent kiss. Your hands grip his shoulders tightly and you throw your body flush against his. One of his hands drops to your lower back, while the other moves to cup the back of your neck, fingers tangling almost painfully into your hair. You try to force your tongue into his mouth but his fights yours for dominance. He’s not kidding. He really is going to try to take control.

You find it adorable that he thinks he can.

You pull back from the kiss, gasping for air and his mouth moves to assault your neck, eliciting a low moan from you. Suddenly he’s pulling away and you glare at him for the loss of contact. “Turn and go into the bedroom,” he orders. “I want to watch you walk.”

Again you raise your eyebrow at him. Fine. You’ll go along with his little game for now. But it’s only to humor him. You’ll end up getting your way in the end. As you said before, you always do. You turn and walk back to your room, swinging your hips tantalizingly as you go. You hear him kick out of his shoes before he follows you. You can feel his eyes on you and you can just imagine the hungry look on his face. When you glance over your shoulder, you no longer need to imagine. It’s all right there.

Once in your room, you climb onto the bed, your backside in the air as you crawl across the mattress. Your nightie is short and from this angle he can clearly see the lacy panties you chose for the occasion. You hear him stifle a moan before you turn to lay on your side on the bed. You’re facing him fully now and smirk expectedly.

He yanks his shirt unceremoniously over his head and chucks it over his shoulder before reaching to undo the button on his jeans.

“Now it’s your turn to give me a show, is it?” you can’t help asking.

His hands pause for a moment and his eyes narrow at you just a fraction. Deliberately and slowly he drags the zipper down on his pants and pushes them down and over his hips, letting them drop to the ground. “See, I think there’s an important fact here that you’re forgetting,” he says, stepping out of his jeans and socks before moving towards you. Once again he’s forgone underwear and you briefly wonder if he ever wore any to begin with.

“Am I now?” you counter, pushing yourself up so that you’re sitting on your knees. The straps of the nightie slip from your shoulders in the process and it just takes a small shrug to make the fabric slide down the rest of your frame and pool around you.

Ryan climbs up onto the bed and moves towards you, almost predatory, his eyes never leaving yours. “You are,” he says as he reaches you. Again he brings his face close to yours. “You played your hand already. _You_ called _me_. _You_ asked _me_ to come over. You told me that you were horny and needed me. I didn’t have to come over. But I did. Because you’ve already proven that you won’t turn me away. So basically, I can take my time and drag this out as long as possible, and you won’t do a thing about it because _you want me to fuck you._ ”

For the first time in your life, you are at a loss for words. You narrow your eyes back at him, lips pursed together tightly in an unamused grimace. Shit. He’s got you there.

He doesn’t wait for a response from you. Instead he seizes you one more time and throws you onto your back, practically ripping your nightie the rest of the way down before covering your body with his own. When his hot skin presses against yours, you can’t help but moan loudly, arching into him almost instinctively.

His hungry, demanding mouth is back and again your tongues fight for dominance, his almost winning the battle until you catch his bottom lip between your teeth in a borderline painful nip. “I’m going to fuck you tonight, _Professor_ ,” he practically drawls as he moves his mouth down your cheek, along your jaw and to the smooth expansion of your neck. “But not until you beg me to.”

“Fat chance.” Your response is automatic and you’re a little surprised yourself when it comes out. It doesn’t deter him in the slightest however. He just chuckles.

“It’s going to be fun to break you,” he purrs, drawing back so his knees are resting on either side of your hips. His cock is hard and practically begging for your attention as it rests on your lower belly. He catches you staring and his cheeks blush slightly with embarrassment at the obvious hunger in your gaze. But it’s only brief because then his face hardens into his confident, smirking mask once more.

“I can’t wait to see you try.”

His hands grasp your breasts firmly and you bite back a sigh. He drags his thumbs roughly over your hard nipples before he bends down to take one between his talented lips. He swirls his tongue and teases the bud until it’s almost too much, then he switches to the next one.

Your body feels tight. Every muscle clenches each time his teeth gently nip and pull at you. You’ve been on the brink of coming since you tried to touch yourself earlier, and it’s starting to wear you down already. But you’re stubborn and you’re not going to beg him, no matter how good his mouth feels on your breasts, or how hard his cock is.

God you can feel it still pressed between your bodies and you move your hand down so you can try to grasp him.

He’s quick however and he seizes your wrists, knocking your hands out of the way before moving down the bed. In doing so he drags himself along your soaking wet mound and that coaxes an unexpected gasp out of you. He grins triumphantly. “I believe you said something about wanting my fingers stroking you?”

That was then. When you were trying to get him to come over. Now that he’s here, you just want him to fuck you. But there’s no way you’re going to say that out loud and let him win. Instead you just purse your lips together stubbornly.

That doesn’t seem to faze him however. He places a few kisses along your ribcage as his hand travels between the apex of your legs and into your panties, fingers roughly dragging across the oversensitive flesh. You jerk instantly at the touch, biting your bottom lip to keep from crying out.

He drags two fingers along your slit, being anything but gentle. That works just fine for you, since gentle isn’t anything close to what you want right now. His thumb moves to press roughly against your clit, but it’s only briefly and it’s enough to make you annoyed. He’s going to tease you. Of course he is. You’ve done it plenty of times to him.

Without warning he slides his two fingers into you, and this time you can’t fight the gasp that escapes. His chin rests on your stomach as he looks up at you, eyes hooded with desire and sparkling mischievously. “You really are wet for me,” he coos, stroking you firmly and in a way he has quickly learned you like.

That first night together, after the second or third time you had sex, you both laid in these exact positions while he explored you with his curious fingers. Then, he was slow and careful. He was almost shy and hesitated between strokes, wanting to make sure he was doing what you wanted.

Now…now he doesn’t need to ask. He knows it’s exactly what you like.  

His thumb is back on your clit and you’re trying to move along with his hand. But his upper body is pinning your lower half to the bed and it’s maddening. You settle for gripping the bed sheets as your chest heaves. Your skin is damp from sweat already. Actually, it has been since the second he seized you in the dining room.

You can feel your orgasm building, and he must sense it too because he slows his strokes and almost removes his fingers completely.

“Keep going,” you order before you can stop yourself.

“Beg me to.”

“Fuck you.”

He leans down to nip playfully at your hip bone. He withdraws his hand completely and you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact. You were so close. So fucking close. He pulls back and catches your eye as he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking the wetness off them so crudely you whimper again.

Fuck. Now you _are_ going to have to beg him.

He sits back on his heels and drags your underwear down and off your legs. After tossing them to the side, he spreads your legs open and takes hold of himself. You watch excitedly as he firmly strokes his cock, his lips parted slightly as he starts to pant. He lets go of himself a few seconds later so he can grip your waist tightly. With a quick tug he draws you closer to him and then takes hold of himself once more.

He drags the head of his cock along your slit and you’re practically vibrating with anticipation. Waiting for the feeling of him pressing into you. Waiting to be finally, _finally_ , filled to completion.

But nothing happens.

“Damn it, Haywood!” you snap. “What are you waiting for? A fucking map and formal invitation?"

He doesn’t seem to care about your outburst. In fact his smirk widens. “Beg me.”

_God fucking damn it!_

“Alright, alright, you made your point!” you say through clenched teeth. “Fuck me already!”

He drags his entire length along your slit now and you practically weep with frustration. “See, that was a little better,” he says. How can he be so calm? He must be ready to burst like you are. He certainly looks like he is. Fuck, he’s going to be hard inside of you. “But it still sounds like you’re ordering me. I know you can do better.”

You growl this time. Your fists are clenched so tightly they are starting to hurt. But that is nothing compared to the constant throbbing and aching going on between your legs.

He pushes the head of his cock into you and you arch your back, letting out a strangled moan. He draws out completely, before doing it again. His hand that’s not gripping his length is clutching your thigh and the fingers are going to leave bruises. He’s struggling to control himself. But you’ve already lost it.

He’s won.

“ _Ryan, please!_ ” you beg, tears forming on the corners of your eyes and sliding down your flaming cheeks to disappear into your tousled hair. “ _Please fuck me!_ ”

He slams into you all at once and you cry out.

His control is gone. Both hands grip your thighs now as he draws out before slamming into you, over and over again so hard and deep that you can’t help but call his name every time. He’s done playing games with you. He doesn’t have the resolve for it like you do. He’s grunting and cursing now too, chest heaving repeatedly as he stares down. He watches his cock disappear inside of you again and again, almost as if he can’t look away.

You can’t take it anymore. You’re right there. _Right fucking there._

His swift thumb comes down on your clit hard and that’s it. You come completely unraveled, shouting his name so loud, you’re sure your neighbors hear you. But you don’t care because you’re too busy having the most explosive orgasm you’ve had in years.

He draws out of you once you come back to down from your euphoria. He looks like he’s ready to burst and he grasps himself firmly, pumping his cock only a few times before he comes all over your thighs. He keeps eye contact with you when he does and you find you can’t look away. You don’t dare.

When he’s finally done, he leans back on his heels gasping for breath. You push yourself up to sit and grasp him by the back of the neck, pulling him forward into a harsh kiss. He cups your cheek with his clean hand, returning the kiss clumsily as he continues to try to gasp for air. You both draw back, still panting. “ _Fuck_ , Haywood,” you say.

He laughs, blushing bright red. “I almost gave in,” he says. “I’m really glad I didn’t.”

“I’m really, _really_ , glad you didn’t,” you tell him. “Now can you get me a washcloth or something?”

He chuckles and gives you a quick peck. “Sure thing.”

He gets off the bed and goes into your bathroom. You hear him rustling around and then the faucet running briefly, before he comes back with a warm, wet cloth. He hands it to you and you clean up his mess before handing the cloth back. He uses a clean end to wipe himself before tossing it into your laundry basket. You extend your hand to him and he takes it with a sheepish smile, allowing you to pull him into bed.

“You are proving the be quite the student, Mr. Haywood,” you purr as he draws you close to him.

“Well, I’ve had a great teacher,” he says cheekily.

“Stick with me and I will teach you a hell of a lot more,” you say with a grin, nuzzling yourself under his chin as you try to get comfortable for sleep.

“I think I will,” he says softly. His hand coming up to stroke your hair. Something in his voice makes you smile softly and you drag the blanket up to cover you both.

“Glad to hear it.”


End file.
